


when the rain falls, will you think of me?

by Itch



Series: Sylvix Week 2019 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Battle Scene, Canon time line, Child Felix, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Pre time skip, child sylvain, felix gets whumped, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: During the battle of Garreg Mach, the sun in Sylvian's heart stops shining. Will the rain pass, and the sun come back out again?





	when the rain falls, will you think of me?

**Author's Note:**

> Sylvix Week day 4, the prompt was rain!

_On the fifth day, which was a Sunday, it rained very hard. I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty – Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time._

Sylvain didn't waste any time in cupping Felix's face in his hands, crushing their lips together in a kiss that was desperate and hungry, a kiss that screamed _oh god, you're alive_. Felix laced his fingers through Sylvain's hair, holding him down, keeping him close.

_One day earlier_

A roar shook the ground Felix stood on, and he stumbled a little, bracing himself against the wall to keep his balance. Out of the now shattered window he could see the dragon, head rearing back as it towered over the monastery and he gulped, feeling true fear for the first time in years. Last time he felt like this had been... when? In fact, he couldn't remember a time he had felt his life was so acutely in danger. There was no doubt though that right now, his life was held in a unstable balance, toeing the delicate line between life and death. He ran outside, looking for his fellow classmates. Upon first glances, Dimitri was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Dedue, but that was fine, they would be fine. They were probably fighting back to back, Dedue's shield and gauntlets knocking enemies flying and Dimitri finishing them off with his lance. Felix could picture the sick grin on Dimitri's face, the crazed eyes, the way he could even be laughing. It was the others he was more worried about, Ashe, Mercedes, Ingrid, Annette... Sylvain. No, he didn't need to worry about Sylvain, he could take care of himself. So could the others in realistic terms, but that didn't make him _not _worry. He did trust his classmates, he had fought practise battles side by side with them, sat in long seminars with them. He knew they could take care of themselves. Even so, he needed to see them, alive and as well as they could be considering the situation.

A pegasus swooped low above him and he ducked, hands up in a cross in front of his face to protect himself from any hoof that might come his way before he realised it was Ingrid, Ashe clinging to her waist. She didn't stop, perhaps she hadn't seen him. She could also have been at the mercy of the pegasus however – they didn't tend to like men, and it probably wasn't entirely pleased with having Ashe on it's back too. He guessed it was the emergency of the situation that prompted the allowance.

“Felix!” A voice cried out and he whirled around, spotting Annette coming towards him, hand clasped in Mercedes' so they couldn't get separated.

“Good, you're both safe,” he started, wiping some blood of Annette's cheek with his thumb gently before he looked over her head, hoping they were being followed. “Where's Sylvain?”

“We... thought he would be with you.” Mercedes said, and Felix wasted no time in unsheathing his sword, staring into the throng of enemies that has swarmed through the broken down wall.

“You go. Ingrid and Ashe have already gone on ahead, I'll go find the numbskull and bring him out.” Annette scowled at him and released Mercedes' hand, turning around to follow him as he pushed past her.

“I'm not letting you go in alone Felix, you'll need some back up. Mercie and I can provide magical back up, especially if Sylvain is hurt.” Felix didn't have time to argue as he deflected someone's sword from crashing down on his shoulder, and he ducked as Annette sent a fireball whizzing past his ear, hitting the soldier square in the face. She was right, she could hold her own.

“Do _not _split up, at any costs.” He ordered, sword sinking into the rib cage of another solider. As he fought his way through he didn't stop looking for that mop of red hair, that sign that Sylvain was stood up and fighting. He tried calling Sylvain's name, but there was no chance he could be heard of the noise from the fight, but he didn't stop, calling and calling until his voice was hoarse, and even then he didn't stop. He needed to find Sylvain. He heard someone say his name over the din and he turned, not noticing the mage to the right with a book open, hand pressed to the page.

“Felix, look out!” Mercedes screamed, but too late. Light moved faster than sound after all. The battlefield lit up with a bright white light, those nearby shading their eyes with their hands as the bellow of _THORON _hit their ears, the beam connecting with Felix between his shoulder blades. He bowed in a perfect arch as it hit him, choking out a word that if it had been heard, would have sounded like _Sylvain_, before he slumped to the ground, face down in the dust.

Sylvain hit a cavalier in the face with the blunt end of his lance, dismounting him, and he stole his place on the back of the dark coloured mare. Over all the shouting and the weapons clanging together he could hear the crack of lighting of some sort of spell being cast and the scream of Felix's name. He dug his heels into the horse's side, pushing her to barrel through the crowd, spotting Mercedes' cream-blonde hair next to Annette's flash of ginger and a smoking charred path leading from the enemy to a body. Leading to a limp, unmoving body. No. _No. _He stood up in the stirrups, carefully riding around Felix, throwing his lance. The crest between his shoulders lit up, flashing a brilliant gold light visible from underneath his armour, and the lance hit it's target – the offending mage. Blood splattered across the book in his hands, and Sylvain vaulted from the horse, wrenching the lance out of his head, brain splattering over his boots. He picked the book up and tossed it to Annette, before whirling on the other's standing nearby. His crest didn't stop glowing at he fought, lance clinking against the enemy weapons but nothing could stop his whirlwind of terror, the dance of death he was choreographing on the spot to the music of war that filled his ears. The grip on his lance became white-knuckle tight and some power he didn't know he had welled up inside him. It was as if he was possessed and had battle experience of a man thrice his senior, twirling out of the way of attacks he couldn't have known where coming. Enemies who survived their encounter with him insisted his eyes had glowed with a fiery light, as if through his eyes they could see into the depths of Hell. He roared in determination, shoulder slamming one out of the way to get to Felix, lifting him with one arm and draping him over one shoulder. He could smell singed hair from him and he pleases silently for Felix to move, to protest against the man handling, but Felix was as limp as the dead. N_o, don't think like that, he's fine, he has to be fine_. Sylvain grasped onto the reins of the mare again, hoisting himself up onto her again, Felix over his shoulder. He looked down at Annette and Mercedes, pointing behind him.

“Squeeze on.” He shouted, and they both did, crushing themselves together, Annette's hands fisting in Sylvain's undershirt to keep her steady as he pushed the horse into a canter.

“Elwind!” He heard Mercedes cast the speed spell, and a gust of wind, accompanied by green magic tendrils coiled around the horse's hooves, her speed nearly doubling with ease. He steered her over a broken down wall and into the dense forest, providing them with shelter.

~~

Felix was five years old. He was sat on a bench, and it was raining, but he didn't care. If he got wet, he got wet, he would dry off again. He was sulking. Glenn had been annoying him again, bullying him about how long his hair was, and he was bored of hearing it. He _liked_ it long, it was like their dad's. Felix admired his Dad, he worked for the _King _and the King was super important. He wanted to be like his Dad one day, standing shoulder to shoulder with a Blaiddyd, a shining ceremonial sword on his waist. Felix, being five however, couldn't see the exhaustion in his father's eyes, the stolen glances between him and Lambert, the way they seemed to move in perfect harmony as if their bond was deeper than just right hand man and King. He clucked his tongue in annoyance, tipping his head back and losing himself in the grey expanse above him.

“Hey you.” A voice he knew came to him and he looked to the side, scowling with he saw a soggy Sylvain coming over to him. Sylvain was Margrave Gautier's younger son, a real pain in the ass. He wasn't a bully like his brother, Miklan often picked on Felix for being short, or being a cry baby, he was just... he had an annoying habit of showing up whenever Felix wanted him. Not that Felix _did _want him around. He just sometimes wanted company that wasn't Glenn, or Dimitri who was always so quiet and he had to play with because of their Dad's, or Ingrid who wouldn't stop going on about the fact they were going to be brother and sister one day. Sylvain was just there because he wanted to be.

“Hey you yourself.” He pouted a little, turning away from Sylvain, who ignored his body language and just sat himself down on the bench beside Felix. “What do you want.”

“I came to play, but Glenn said you were uhhh... 'sulking over there somewhere'-” he imitated Glenn badly, and Felix had to fight to hide a smile. “So I came to find you and see what was the matter. He wouldn't tell me.” Felix pulled the tie from his hair, tugging the wet ponytail over his shoulder.

“He said my hair was too long, like a _girl's._ I said I don't care, because I like it, and he laughed at me and told me no one would want to marry a boy with long hair. I said I don't want to get married, I want to be a knight, and he said that wasn't possible, I've got a crest, so I have to have a wife.” He kicked a rock with the toe of his boot and his frown deepened. “Like he doesn't have one, so he has to marry Ingrid, because she _does _have one.” Sylvain handed him a lollipop from his pocket, and Felix shook his head. “I don't like sweets. It's not fair. I don't want a crest. I just want to be a knight, be strong, protect Dima, and you, and Ingrid.” He jumped up onto the bench, grabbing a stick from the floor and brandishing it at Sylvain like a sword. “If we end up in a fight I want to make sure you don't die.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow, scooping up his own stick and joining Felix standing on the bench, 'weapon' at the ready.

“Well what if I want to protect _you_?” Felix was taken aback by his question, and poked Sylvain in the chest with his stick.

“You're not allowed to die, stupid.”

“Well neither are you, _stupid._” Sylvain poked Felix back, this time in the knee, before lunging at him, causing him to jump backwards and land on his butt in a puddle, much to Felix's disgust. Sylvain balanced on the back of the bench, tiptoeing down it before he jumped to land neatly in front of Felix, a hand stretched out towards him.

“Look, I'll make you a deal. We won't die without the other, how's that sound?” Felix took his hand, pulling himself up and nodded in agreement.

“Okay. Now fight me.” The end of the stick jabbed into Sylvain's thigh and he retaliated, and they ended up play sparring until the rain stopped, the sun coming out to warm their wet clothes.

~~

Felix flicked the reins of his horse, pushing them harder through the rain, down the path away from the Gautier estate. He had been staying there whilst everyone else went off down to to Duscur, because Rodrigue was off doing some Duke business and hadn't wanted to leave his 13 year old son alone in the mansion. The letter had just arrived – Glenn had died in the battle. Everyone had died in the battle, but Felix didn't care about anyone else. Glenn wasn't _allowed _to be dead though. Glenn had to stay alive. He was going to marry Ingrid, and have children with crests, and Felix would be the stoic uncle who seemed to be always there, and never there both at the same time. He wasn't allowed to be _dead._ Behind him, there was another set of thundering hooves, Sylvain on his own horse, catching up to Felix.

“Felix! You gotta slow down!” He shouted over the wind, and Felix pretended he hadn't heard him. He needed to get to Duscur. “Felix!” Felix ignored him more pointedly this time, leaning further down against the horse's neck, urging them to speed up. Sylvain slipped two fingers into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, one the horses were trained to stop too. The mare Felix was riding slowed down and he swore, nearly falling off as he tried to get down and _run_ as if he could make it to Duscur on foot. “Felix you damn idiot!” Sylvain fell off of his own horse and in only a few strides had caught up and rugby tackled Felix down into the ground, where he flailed.

“Get off me! I need to go, Glenn is waiting, he's not _dead,_ the messenger lied.” He squirmed, and Sylvain put his forearm flat on his chest, pinning him down.

“Felix, they aren't lying. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry.” Felix fought a little harder, determined to get Sylvain off him, to get back up. The energy he had was slowly draining, and eventually he had nothing left, he just lay beneath Sylvain sobbing.

“He's not allowed to be dead Sylvain.” He whined, sadness filling his voice, and Sylvain shushed him, getting off of him and pulling him up into his arms, cradling him against his chest, cheek pressed to his sopping wet hair.

“I am so sorry Felix,” was all he could say as he clutched Felix against him, the rain around them a constant white noise. Felix couldn't find words, he just sobbed into Sylvain's chest, fists twisted in the material of his thin shirt. If he had taken a minute to think, he would have realised how unprepared Sylvain was – there was no saddle on his horse, just a blanket slung over his back, and he was wearing his night clothes. It was as if he had left hot on Felix's tail, without a care for himself. (That is because that is exactly _what _Sylvain did, not giving anything a second thought as he followed after Felix, needing to catch him up and be there for him.) Back home even once the rain had stopped, the storm was in Felix's expression when Dimitri was seen stood in the halls in plain white clothes than hung off him from all corners, his expression blank. Felix wanted to punch him. He had let Glenn die. He had let _everyone _die.

~~

Felix had been looking for Sylvain in the rain. Sylvain's older brother, Miklan, was hogging the training ground and had thrown a wooden spear at Felix to make him go away, telling him to 'go find Sylvain before it's too late' with a nasty laugh. He didn't really take his words to heart, but he decided to go find him anyway. What could he even mean by “before it was too late”? There was no time limit on when they could train after all, and the two of them could make Miklan leave the training grounds so they could spar. He put a hand over his eyes like a visor, the rain hammering down around him, and he wondered where Sylvain could be. He wasn't in the house, he had already checked, and he wasn't at the stables either, which is where he usually found him. Sylvain had a habit of reading tomes to the horses as if they could understand him, reciting black magic spells he wasn't _technically_ allowed to learn. The stable hands turned a blind eye as long as he helped them muck out the stalls, and Sylvain gave no complaint. There weren't many other places for him to be. It was then he noticed the heavy metal chain on the well was moving, despite the fact there wasn't any wind harder than a breeze. He pursed his lips, jogging over to it to see Sylvain sat at the bottom of the well in inches of green water, one hand on the chain to shake it.

“What are you doing in the well?” He asked coldly, leaning down as far as he could without falling in, reaching for Sylvain's hands. Sylvain didn't move.

“Is Miklan with you?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically small. Felix scowled and clapped his hands at him before opening and closing his fists in a _give me your hands_ gesture.

“No, why would he be with me? He's at the training ground, and won't let me be there. So I came to find you, because you could help me get him to leave. He wouldn't try and fight us both.” Sylvain looked up at Felix, who was stunned to see a blossoming black eye. “Did he do that?” Sylvain's face told him that yes, he had. Sylvain was only nine – Felix seven, and Miklan had no right to be punching his brother and throwing him down into wells. Glenn was sometimes mean to him, but not like this. He clicked his fingers at Sylvain, who took hold, and between the strength of them both Felix managed to pull him out. They walked in silence back to the house, and Felix watched Sylvain go in the back door so his father wouldn't spot him, giving him a small wave.

“Are you not coming in?” Sylvain had grabbed a horse towel from near the door and was drying his hair with it.

“No I... I have something I need to do first. Put some ice on your eye, and there's healing salve in the top drawer of the bedside table.” Sylvain turned away from him and headed in through a door into the kitchen, the smell of food making Felix's stomach rumble. But first...

Sylvain saw Miklan the next day with a fat lip, a bruise on his cheekbone, and a slight limp. Miklan was giving Felix a wide berth no matter where they were, and Sylvain had to hide the smirk on his face at that. Felix was pretending that nothing had happened, attitude as cool as ever, but Sylvain knew _exactly _what had taken place.

~~

A thunderstorm was raging outside at the academy, and Felix wasn't a massive fan. He wasn't scared per say, he just didn't like the fact it didn't stop being loud long enough for him to go to sleep. The deep rumbling of the thunder so loud he could swear it was shaking the windows in their panes and there were tree branches knocking on his window. Alongside that, someone was knocking on his door. Wait, someone was knocking on his door?

“Come in.” He grumbled, rolling over in bed to look towards the door, actually surprised when it was Sylvain who came in, a blanket draped over his shoulders. It took him a second before he remembered that Sylvain wasn't a fan of storms at the best of times, but in one as bad as this, he couldn't say he was surprised Sylvain came to him.

“I'm sorry, Fe, but I don-”

“Get in.” He waved a hand at Sylvain and scooched over so Sylvain could slide in next to him. Sylvain was warm, and solid, something Felix wasn't used to having in his bed but he could get used to this. Sylvain also brought with him a scent that was just undeniably _him. _It was cinnamon and ginger, a hot chocolatey smell that made Felix feel full, and content in a way nothing else had ever made him. They laid beside each other in silence for a little while, when a flash of lightning made Sylvain jump, and his hand flashed up to grab onto Felix's shirt. Felix rolled over, pulling Sylvain against him, tucking Sylvain against him.

“Fe-”

“Shush. Sleep.” He tangled his fingers in Sylvain's hair, stroking slowly through the mess of red and orange, waiting for Sylvain's breathing to steady and even out. He found himself concentrating on the loops in Sylvain's hair, taking his time to run his fingers through them. His hand moved absently down Sylvain's shirt, tracing over the lines of his crest, letting out a slow sigh. If Sylvain wasn't the heir to the Gautier crest, and he not the heir to the Fraldarius crest, maybe they could... he pushed the thought away, and let himself drift off, hand still in Sylvain's shirt so he could feel the rise and fall of his back as he breathed. That morning, he woke up in a tangle of blankets and limbs, face smushed against Sylvain's chest. Despite his better judgement, he didn't get up right away, he just enjoyed laying cuddled up in bed with Sylvain. From then on, every time there was lashing rain, the heavens

~~

It was raining when they got back from the mission, and Sylvain had stormed off in a foul mood. Felix couldn't blame him, it was hard to have to kill your brother, but even harder to see your brother mutate into a foul beast and then try to kill you. He had stood watching as Beast Miklan slashed at Sylvain, and been the one to take the hit as he shoved Sylvain out of the way of the talons that were descending. He followed Sylvain silently to the stables, watching the way the red head was fussing over the horses, the brush moving through their velvety hair, dirt falling off.

“You didn't need to follow me Fraldarius.” The last name usage stung a little bit, but Felix said nothing, he just leant on the stable door. A few pens down someone left in a hurry, obviously feeing the icy atmosphere exuding from the both of them. “I mean it, leave.” Yeah, because Felix was going to take orders from Sylvain.

“Why, so you can jump on a horse and leave?” Felix could see Sylvain stiffen from behind. _Ah, so that was his plan._ “Because last time I checked, you're the one who always told me I couldn't run away from my problems, so what makes you think I'm going to allow you to run from yours?” Sylvain whirled on him, throwing the brush at him. Felix caught it, and started picking the short black hairs out of it, dropping them to the stable floor.

“You do _not _understand how I feel right now Felix, so stop trying to. He died because of me. Because of this stupid crest,” His hand went to behind his neck, touching the nape. “And the way that my parents put so much emphasis on it, and shoved him out. He hated me. If I hadn't been born, he wouldn't have died.” Felix threw the brush back underarm, making it easy for Sylvain to catch. He chose not to, and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

“I lost a brother too remember, it isn't just y-”

“You didn't lose him because he _hated_ you, and took a hold of a lance he couldn't use to try and best you, and the lance turn him into a beast. Glenn went to do his duty as a knight and died in the process. Miklan died because he was an _idiot,_ and because I existed.” Felix flinched when Sylvian's fist contacted with a wooden pillar, the bones crunching under the force.

“Idiot.” Felix stepped closer, grabbing Sylvain's hand, fingers glowing with green light. He had learnt to use Heal from Mercedes as an emergency, always good to know basic white magic.

“Your idiot.” Sylvain sounded _sad,_ and Felix didn't have the heart to argue with him.

“My idiot.” It was a running joke they'd had for years, since Dimitri became absorbed in ghosts, and Ingrid into a shell of herself, that all they had was each other – they were each other's till the end, and they would die together, because they couldn't exist without the other. Felix let Sylvain rest his forehead on Felix's hair and breathe out slowly, trying to calm himself down. “Let's go for a night time ride, okay? That'll help you settle.” The way Sylvain brightened instantly made something light up in Felix's chest, and he wasn't quite sure what the feeling was, but he liked it.

~~

It was raining, and Felix could feel the raindrops on his face. He wasn't quite sure where he was, and his body felt too heavy to move, no matter how hard he tried. He felt sick, right into the pit of his stomach, and if his muscles would cooperate he thought he would puke, but none of his muscles _did_ want to work. Even his eyelids refused to open and he was about to start panicking when he finally heard someone he knew.

“What happened?” Mercedes? No... Ingrid.

“A mage, he was caught by Thoron, I saw it all happen, oh Ingrid it was horrible!” That was Annette, voice thick with tears.

“Take him into the tent over there, we will have that as the medical tent.” That was Ashe, sounding cool and calm, but as if he was trying too hard to keep it together.

“Leave me and him alone. I'll do my best.” That was Mercedes, a wobble in her voice worrying him. It suddenly occurred to him that not only had he not heard Sylvain, but he didn't know who they were talking about. When he felt his back be laid down on the ground a horrible thought came to him – it was _him _they were talking about. Now he thought about it, there was a burning feeling between his shoulders as if he had been burnt, and he wanted it to go away. He could hear Mercedes over him, whispering words of healing and the feeling of cool water washed over him, as if he was drifting down a stream. Sleep took him in her arms, whisking him away as Mercedes toiled through the night with different spells, constantly awake, never stopping her mission to make him better. Anyone watching from outside would see a green light, never faltering, never dimming away, just glowing throughout the witching hour as she fought to bring Felix back from the brink.

~~

Felix didn't recognise where he was, but it was raining. Why was it always raining? There was nothing else around him either. Except, maybe? There was what looked like a building, right in the distance, with a warm light coming from an open door. The rain came down harder, and he started to walk towards the the shelter. The rain was _cold, _and it felt like it was chilling him right down to the bone, into the marrow, freezing him from the inside out. He tried to pick up the pace, but his limbs were icing over and he panicked, breaking into a run, the light both getting closer, and further away at the same time. Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping around his ankles, and he tripped, landing hard on his hands. He swore, kicking at the offending plant life that seemed to have a mind of it's own, snaring up his trousers, crushing his lower legs to the point where he couldn't feel his feet. He turned his head, reaching a hand out towards the building, mouth opening to shout for help but no sound wanted to come. Just as he felt c some vines begin to edge under his shirt, trying to crush him down into the ground, he heard a noise he knew. The pounding of hooves. He looked towards the sound, sighting _Sylvain _on a horse he had never seen before, a dark coloured one, with a red blanket under their saddle. Sylvain landed beside the vines, lance singing as he sliced through them, freeing Felix. Felix looked at him, the rain soaking them both. That same intoxicating hot chocolate scent overcame him again and Felix moved in what seemed like slow motion, cupping Sylvain's face in his hands. Their lips met, both drenched, both cold, but as they kissed it felt like he was _drinking _the gingery cinnamon, sending shock waves of warmth down, down, into every finger, all his toes, to the ends and edges of himself. He closed his eyes as Sylvain kissed him back, hands on Felix's lower back. Sylvain was so real, so warm, so _safe. _He forgot about the building in the distance with it's wide open door, and he didn't notice as the clouds parted above them, the sunshine he had been waiting for gracing them with it's presence.

~~

The sun rose on their little camp, and she staggered out of the tent flap, Ashe catching her as she nearly fell over.

“I can't do anymore.” Everyone surrounded her, hushing her words, not letting her apologise. _You did amazing, you did so well, don't beat yourself up, rest now, we made some tea from nettles, come drink and rest. _Sylvain didn't come over though. He stood a short distance away, leaning against a tree, peeling an apple with his dagger, eating slices from the knife. He was doing nothing but that, and watching the tent like a hawk. Felix better walk out of it. He wasn't allowed to die. Felix was _not _allowed to die on him. He thought back to all the times they'd had together. As kids, when they had defended each other against their older brothers, the time Felix had literally beaten up Miklan for him, the time when at the academy Felix had left him come sleep in his bed and they'd spent the night cuddled up like lovers. He thought about all the laughs, the jokes, the shared meals and looks they'd given each other, and his heart ached painfully. He should have told Felix how he felt. He should have told Felix he loved him so much earlier. He wanted Felix back, now. He wanted his idiot. He wanted his Felix.

Ingrid dragged Sylvain off on a patrol to find food, mostly because they all needed him to stop making them antsy with the constant staring. Sat around fire pit they had built ready for the evening, Annette, Mercedes and Ashe were whispering about the battle, the dragon, the way Sylvain was so... out of sorts. When none of them were looking, Felix did get up. It was slow, and painful, but he got up. Everything hurt, but that didn't stop him pulling himself out of the tent, squinting in the sunlight.

“Where's Sylvain?” Was the first thing he asked, before he thanked Mercedes sincerely for all the help she had given him.

“He's alive, he's gone with Ingrid to get food. Oh he's going to be so happy to see you Felix, he's been destitute.” Annette was fussing over him, tugging her comb through his hair to try and make it look back to normal, and she wrapped a ribbon around it to tie it back for him. He didn't argue, letting her fuss and do what she wanted. He was much more concerned about Sylvain right now.

“Who... what happened? I remember going to you two, looking for Sylvain, and then there's nothing.”

“You got hit by a Thoron. Sylvain pulled all three of us out. He was _amazing _Felix, he's so strong.” Mercedes pushed some tea into Felix's hands, and he took an absent minded sip waiting. It took little over two hours for Sylvain and Ingrid to come back. As the sound of hooves got louder, Felix's mind snapped back to the 'dream' he had had, of Sylvain coming to rescue him from what seemed like certain death in the rain. He recalled the kiss, the way it had made him feel _alive_ again, and he knew what he needed to do.

Sylvain had some squirrels slung across his back in a loop of rope, but he pulled the horse to a halt when he saw the camp. There was someone there who hadn't been there when he left, someone with dark hair, a blood smeared face, and what even seemed to be a smile now that he could see Sylvain. Sylvain dismounted, dropping the squirrels. The clearing suddenly seemed massive, but empty, forgetting that the others were even there. It was just him and Felix, staring at one another, both bruised, bloody, tired beyond belief but alive. Sylvain didn't waste any time in practically grabbing Felix's face in his hands, crushing their lips together in a kiss that was desperate and hungry, a kiss that screamed _oh god, you're alive_. Felix laced his fingers through Sylvain's hair, holding him down, keeping him close. The others all stared for a second in shock before turning away, acting as if they hadn't seen anything. When they finally broke apart, Sylvain's smile was as bright as the sun above them.

“Gods. You frightened me, you idiot.”

“Your idiot.” Felix retorted, head falling to press against Sylvain's chest, hearing his heart thrum like the beats of a birds wing.

“My idiot.”

_Look at the rain long enough, with no thoughts in your head, and you gradually feel your body falling loose, shaking free of the world of reality. Rain has the power to hypnotize – Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun_

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand that's that :3   
please feed the starving writer with comments and kudos, and find me on twitter @nothinggoeshere


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